each night waiting in the J. hotel in Washington with my
suit on ready to be asked. They did not come near me.

Nor have I yet received an invitation from the British
Embassy inviting me to an informal lunch or to midnight
supper with the Ambassador. Everybody who knows anything
of the inside working of the international spy system
will realize that without these invitations one can do
nothing. Nor has the President of the United States given
any sign. I have sent ward to him, in cipher, that I am
ready to dine with him on any day that may be convenient
to both of us. He has made no move in the matter.

Under these circumstances an intrigue with any of the
leaders of fashionable society has proved impossible. My
attempts to approach them have been misunderstood--in
fact, have led to my being invited to leave the J. hotel.
The fact that I was compelled to leave it, owing to
reasons that I cannot reveal, without paying my account,
has occasioned unnecessary and dangerous comment. I
connect it, in fact, with the singular attitude adopted
by the B. hotel on my arrival in New York, to which I
have already referred.

I have therefore been compelled to fall back on revelations
and disclosures. Here again I find the American atmosphere
singularly uncongenial. I have offered to reveal to the
Secretary of State the entire family history of Ferdinand
of Bulgaria for fifty dollars. He says it is not worth
it. I have offered to the British Embassy the inside